My Bloody Valentine
by Metallicafangirl
Summary: My little Vincent collection. Formerly known as Reasons Why.
1. Atonement

Cloud has sent us to find our reason to fight Sephiroth. I'm not sure I can find one. When I heard we were given time off to find our reason, I went directly back to the mansion, to the crypt. I don't know why I chose to go here, or why I went there as soon as I heard the news of our leave, but I knew I had too. Something forced me to go back here, and I had no choice but to comply.  
  
Now I stand in the corner, watching the coffin in the middle of the room. For thirty years, that coffin was my bed, my home, my world. My grave. It was the only thing I knew, until Cloud and the others came. They woke me up and convinced me to join them on their quest. The decision to join them is probably the most life-changing one I've ever made, and ever will make.  
  
.  
  
My coffin...  
  
Thirty years I had spent in it, and it felt like it was my prison, my punishment for the sins I have committed. In the end, that was what it became; the only way for me to atone for my sins. I remember spending hours, awake because of the horrible nightmares I still suffer, just staring at the inside of the lid, wondering when I'd go crazy, if I wasn't crazy already. I know the cracks in the coffin-lid like my back-pocket. But try as I might, I still hadn't atoned for my sins when Cloud came for me.  
  
Joining him and the rest of Avalanche was the first step down the road of atonement. Killing Hojo was another. But Sephiroth? He was Lucrecia's son, and killing him would bring her pain. But if I don't kill him, he will destroy the Planet, and bring Lucrecia even more pain. I'm in two minds about killing him. Actually, I'm in two minds about everything, but, generally, the other mind isn't my own. It belongs to Chaos, the demon that, along with three others, has taken residence in my head. They refuse to leave, and nothing I can do or say can convince them otherwise.  
  
I glance down at my claw, the tarnished gold dull in the dim light of the crypt. It, and the demons, are ´experiments´ of Hojo's. He made me insensitive to pain, made me stronger, and I have a creeping suspicion that I may be immortal. It would be just like Hojo to do that to me. I swear, he lived to torture me and his other ´specimens´. I sigh heavily, regretting all the times I crossed the scientist. It had all started with me falling in love with Lucrecia.  
  
If only I hadn't fallen in love with her. If only I hadn't been sent on the mission to protect their experiments. If only I hadn't become a Turk. If only I had never run away from home, and joined the slum gang that would become the Turks. If only I had never picked up a gun. If only I had never been born. If only. I shake my head. There is no use in regretting now; I can't change what has been done. But I can repent for it. And if I can't, I'll die trying.  
  
I know, that when I die, there will be no angle greeting me. Such favours are not wasted upon sinners like me. I will most likely go to hell, and join the choir of tortured souls, wailing in agony until the end of time. And god knows, I deserve no better for what I have done. But this is not time for religious discussing. I have a decision to make. To fight Sephiroth, or to leave that responsibility to Avalanche. I know I must make that decision, and soon, but I don't know what to choose.  
  
I walk through the library housed in the mansion, letting my hand caress the books as I pass. I am looking for the records of the Jenova-project. As I reach the end of the aisle I am walking along, I come upon a book I have never seen before. I pick it up from its discarded position on the floor and look closely at it. It has worn leather covers, but there is no title on the cover, no text to reveal what it is about. Curious, I turn to the first page and start to read.  
  
Two hours later find me still reading, now sitting in one of the old chairs in the library, my quest for the Jenova-records forgotten. I have discarded my red cloak in favour of the black shirt and trousers I wear underneath. I turn page after page, not bothering to stop between sentences. I am entranced. All these years, and I never expected it would be so close by. Whoever wrote it was wise not to write anything on the cover, and hide it in the furthest corners of the library. It would have attracted unwanted attention, and the knowledge of this book in the wrong hands would have been disastrous. The books title is ´One Winged Angel´. It is the records of the experiments made on Sephiroth. It also states the goals of the project.  
  
As I reach the last word written in the book, my mind is made up. I close the book and place it beneath my cloak, hiding it from the prying eyes of the world. The first chance I get I will burn it and scatter the ashes across the world. No one will ever read this book after me; I owe that to the world. Who know what evil could arise from this knowledge? I glance up at the clock, realizing it is nearly morning, and Cloud will come and pick me up soon. I have been up reading the whole night, not once pausing to sleep or eat, but it was worth it.  
  
The dawn greets me as I step out the door of the mansion, and I hear The Highwind approaching in the distance. I look up at Meteor hovering in the sky. It is a proof of Sephiroth's evil and insanity. My decision is made. I will defeat Sephiroth, or die trying. 


	2. Such Are My Days

I wish they could leave me alone. I pray that they will go away. I have realised that it is of no use, but still I pray. I know that it is all in vain, but even that knowledge cannot keep me from hoping that there might still be a way to rid myself of these demons, these horrible beings that haunt my dreams, and that plague me still, even wide awake. These visions will never go away, and will plague me until the day I die.  
  
At first, I held the firm belief that it was all just a bad dream, and it would go away as soon as I awoke, but I fear I have no such luck. I have come to realize that it is not a nightmare, but in fact the pathetic excuse for a life I have. I will never wake up, and heave a sigh of relief. I am stuck in this horror for ever. No one will take my hand and lead me away from this, no one will save me. I have no one left in this world; they are all gone, killed by a cold man who has no heart, a man without mercy. Killed, while I stood by and did nothing. I am truly a sinful creature, but I am unworthy of your pity. I do not deserve it, and I do not want it. I do not want it because it will only serve to give me a moment to reflect on what has been done. I do not deserve it because of what I have done.  
  
You do not understand what I have done, or how much I hate myself for doing it. You do not know what I have done, so do not waste your time on me; it is useless. You will never understand, no one does, for no one has committed such horrible crimes, so bloody sins, as I have. I hear the screams still, even though it has been many years, almost a whole lifetime, since I committed my crimes. Even after all this time, they will not go away. You know of whom I am speaking; the demons that reside in the deepest caverns of my scarred mind. They torture me endlessly, giving me not one moment's peace.  
  
I live my life as a constant reminder of times past, of sins to horrible to speak of, and as such I will remain until the end of time. I wake up, every day, knowing that the darkness night brings will not go away with the dawn. The pain and hurt will still be there, and no amount of praying will make it go away. My nights are filled with nightmares, and the days are no better. Sometimes, I am almost certain I have reached the brink of insanity, and that the only thing that keeps me from overstepping that boundary is the memories of those who died for me. At times like that, when I remember them, I know that I must go on, and repent for my sins, and hopefully one day succeed in doing so. Those thoughts give me strength to carry on until the day I have reached my goal. But a small part of me knows that that day will never come.  
  
But even in this darkness, a glimmer of hope still remains, however small it may be. And so I shall wait. On the edge of sanity, I will stand, patiently waiting for my time to come. Waiting for the day it will be my turn to leave this world, and forever reunite with those long gone.  
  
Such are my days. It may not be much of a life, but it is mine. 


End file.
